Checks and Mates, a Ravenclaw House story
by Technomad
Summary: After a chess tournament, a Slytherin girl moves in on another girl's boyfriend. Jealousy is a terrible force to arouse. Set in the Slytherin Rising AU.


Checks and Mates

a Ravenclaw House story

by Technomad

(This story is set in the Slytherin Rising universe; all Slytherin Rising characters are © J.L. Mathews, all Harry Potter characters and backgrounds are © J.K. Rowling. All others are original to me. No money is being made and no trademark or copyright infringement is intended)

__

Hogsmeade Railroad Platform, Beginning of an Autumn Weekend

"Where _are_ those girls?" asked Caitlin Tyler, brushing a lock of her blonde hair out of her face impatiently. "They were _supposed_ to meet us here! They've been looking forward to this trip to London for weeks now!"

"Oh, they'll be along, Mrs. Tyler," answered Rianne Stormosi, her dark eyes flickering around. The wind whipped her hair, and she pulled out a scarf with a flourish, tying it around her head to hold her hair in place. "All they've been able to talk about for weeks is going to London. Have you decided where we're going to eat tonight?"

"Not really, dear," said Caitlin. "However, London does have some fine restaurants, and once we're there, we can decide where we want to go." She looked around, spotting the only other person present---a lonely male figure sitting on a bench at the far end of the platform. He hadn't noticed them arriving, being absorbed in a thick book, with three or four more like it awaiting his attention on the bench beside him. He seemed to be utterly oblivious to the autumn chill in the air. 

"I know him!" exclaimed Rianne, looking down the platform. "He's Nick Cleveland, one of the Ravenclaws---I know him from Professor Lockhart's duelling club. He also tutors a lot of people---not including me, of course," she hastily added at Caitlin's questioning look. Caitlin's mother instincts were prodding her to ask who he _did_ tutor, but she kept the question to herself. As long as Deanna's grades stayed high, Caitlin was happy.

Rianne got a cunning look in her eye. "He doesn't even know we're here---his mind's a million miles away! I can resist anything but temptation!" Before Caitlin could react, Rianne was creeping up on the oblivious Nick Cleveland, gathering herself for a pounce from behind.

It all happened too quickly for Caitlin to do anything. Rianne pounced, shrieking "Got you, Cleveland---_aaah_!" The second she had touched him, Nick had snapped out of his fog, springing to his feet and trapping her right arm with his, bending forward to throw her over his shoulder to land on the platform with a thump. His hand darted into his robes, coming out with a wand.

The sight galvanized Caitlin; her Auror training kicked in. "_Petrificus Totalus!"_ she shouted, paralyzing both Nick Cleveland and Rianne. She separated the two before removing the spell. "Gods and goddesses, what did you think you were doing?" she shrieked at Cleveland.

Cleveland himself seemed just as shocked as she was, snarling: "What in the name of Loki did you think you were doing, girl? Trying to get yourself killed?" Rianne shook her head, trying to get her breath back; she had landed quite hard, and for a few minutes, all she could do was gasp for air. "You got a death wish, or are you just tired of living?"

Caitlin suddenly realized where she had seen that sort of reaction before. In Aurors who had been through too much…Mad-Eye Moody was merely the most colourful of a varied lot of Aurors, and other veterans of the Voldemort War, whom it was inadvisable to startle. _Where in the world had a Hogwarts student gotten that sort of reaction from_? she wondered. There were other familiar things about this boy, and anomalous things, like his accent, which she could recognise as North American. 

Nick calmed down after a minute, taking several deep breaths and wiping his forehead. "Sorry, Rianne! Sorry! I just---react very badly---to being startled, particularly someone grabbing me from behind when I didn't know she was there! My own _mother_ doesn't dare do that!" He turned to Caitlin, and gave her a wicked grin. "Thanks, whoever you are, for stopping that. It could have turned very nasty." He helped Rianne up gently, setting her on the bench to recover, and held out his hand for a shake. "Nick Cleveland, of Ravenclaw House. You are---?"

"Caitlin Tyler. My daughter goes to Hogwarts. She's Slytherin, like I was and Rianne here is." At this, Nick's eyes widened and his expression became very abstracted for a second, before he came back to himself and smiled again. Even though he did have a nice smile, Caitlin noticed that the smile never reached his eyes, which were cold, wary and watchful all the time. 

"My mum was a Slytherin. She mentioned a Caitlin Tyler sometimes, telling me about Hogwarts. Do you remember a Grace Forrest?" At the mention of that name, years seemed to fall away from Caitlin, and she was suddenly twelve again, hearing a London-accented voice shrieking at her that the essay she'd written for Transfiguration was a total disgrace to Slytherin House, and that she was going to re-write the whole thing from the beginning---and she was going to at least _try_ to spell things right for a change. She now knew where she had seen eyes like his before---there was only one other person she had ever seen with such pale eyes. Looking into them was like gazing into endless fathoms of ice. 

"Oh, gods, do I ever remember her! She was a prefect when I was a firstie and second-year! I still have nightmares about her---having her show up where I work and start telling me, at the top of her lungs, everything I've done wrong that day!" A reminiscent smile crossed Caitlin's face, as she thought back to her days at Hogwarts. "She was a taskmistress and a half---our Head of House was pretty worthless back then, so she stepped in and made us work! Her motto was 'Every Slytherin gets every lesson every day!' and we got the top grades, or she'd know why not!" 

"Sounds like my Mum," said Nick, grinning rather ruefully. "She was teaching Potions at Emerald City Academy when she met my Dad---he's a Dark Creatures Specialist for the American Department of Magic---and I've heard _that_ slogan more times than I care to remember!" _So that was where he had acquired that North American accent,_ thought Caitlin. _But how had he come to Hogwarts? _

At that moment, Marlie Lovegood, Deanna Tyler and Luella Martin made an appearance, and she forgot about Nick Cleveland for a few minutes. "Where have you girls been? Honeydukes?" The girls nodded, their cheeks flushed in the cool breeze. "Well, hurry up! The train's pulling into the station!" Sure enough, the Hogsmeade-to-London express was pulling in, and everybody scrambled to get aboard.

************

As it turned out, all of her daughter's friends knew Nick Cleveland, and they weren't shy about sharing what they knew. "He's smart---even for a Ravenclaw," said Marlie Lovegood. "I wouldn't mind making a play for him, but that girlfriend of his would probably claw my face off."

"Too true," laughed Deanna. "Remember that big fight she had with Cho Chang?" All the girls laughed and laughed, and when Caitlin found out what had happened, she had to laugh too. She could understand Cho's reaction to having her copy of the Gilderoy Lockhart book _Holidays with Hags _altered so that the title referred to Cho and Lockhart spending the school holidays in a cheap hotel---but it _was_ bloody funny! "In any case, Marlie, I thought you fancied Fred Weasley!"

"I do," smiled Marlie, "but a girl can't have too many admirers, now can she?" She preened, the effect suddenly spoiled as her three friends snorted. 

"Vanity, vanity, all is vanity," drawled Deanna. "Look out, girl---one of these days one of those poor blokes you've been leading on will catch on, or you'll run into a jealous girlfriend. I don't fancy hauling you out of it if Melinda Yang gets the idea you're trying for Nick!" 

"Melinda Yang's Nick's girlfriend," explained Luella, seeing that Caitlin was slightly puzzled. "She's from Hong Kong originally, or Singapore---I'm not quite sure which. She's nice enough normally---she's in Ravenclaw too, and she's about as bookish as anybody there---but the gods help you if you cross her!" 

About halfway to London, Caitlin got up to find the loo. On her way back, she found herself confronted by none other than Nick Cleveland. "Oh! Excuse me!" said Cleveland. "Am I in your way?"

"No, dear. Listen, why don't you join us in my compartment? You're all alone aboard, aren't you?" Caitlin was curious about her old schoolmate's son, and thought that this would be the perfect chance to get to know him better. 

Nick shrugged. "I am alone---and I'd love to join you, Ms. Tyler." He stopped by his compartment to gather up his things, and followed her down to the compartment she was sharing with the girls. 

When he came in, the girls all were glad to see him, and budged up to make room for him. "So---why are you going to London, anyway?" asked Deanna, curiously. "You don't live anywhere near there---when you're on summer holidays, you stay with your relatives in Whitehaven, up in Cumbria, don't you?"

"Sure do, Deanna." answered Nick. He grinned a rather smug grin. "I did pretty well in our last Chess Tournament Night---both in my own playing, and in bets on others---and I've got business to do at Gringott's. Also in Flourish and Botts, and the bookstores of Muggle London. Good job Charing Cross Road's not far from Diagon Alley---I can all but hear Foyle's calling me by my name: _Niiiick_," he intoned, in a ghostly voice, as the girls giggled, _"Niiick Cleeeveland…come and spend money!" _At this, all the girls laughed and laughed, and Caitlin joined in. Ravenclaws, she thought, hadn't changed much from when she had been in school. 

"Hang on," said Rianne, suddenly fixing Nick with an intense stare. "What was that about 'doing well in a Chess Tournament?'" 

Nick shrugged. "Once a month, we have a big chess tournament. It's held down in one of the disused storerooms. There's a small fee to get to play, and that goes toward prizes for the winners. There's a lot of side-betting that goes on as well." He smiled reminiscently. "We often go on from Friday evening till Monday morning---thank all the Aesir for Sleep-Substitute Potions!"

"Don't you know those things are harmful? You could damage your health with them!" scolded Caitlin. 

Nick shrugged. "Used in moderation, they're harmless---I asked Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape. We only ever use them for these things. It's not like _some_ people, who use them to stay awake revising for exams for a week or so at a time!" At this statement, several of the girls looked conspicuously innocent, and Caitlin didn't miss it. She made a mental note to herself to look into her daughter's study habits, and those of her friends while she was about it. 

Rianne went on: "So how much do the top players get?" 

Nick gave her a slantendicular look. "Why do you ask? Fancy your chances, do you?" He hefted a large bag which chinked suggestively. "I made about a hundred and fifty Galleons last Tournament alone. Some of it was money I won on my own games, and the rest, as I've mentioned, was side-bets. I've known a lot of the players for years now, and I know their form well enough to know how to place my bets." He grinned triumphantly at their shocked expressions. "Hey---if I can't flaunt wealth in the presence of one of the top Aurors, the country's in a right old state, now isn't it?"  


Caitlin tore her mind away from considerations of the morality of the thing. "No, Nick, it's perfectly safe to show us what you've won." She looked at the girls, who were staring wide-eyed at the bag. "I'm not sure _how_ I feel about people your age gambling, but there's no wizard law against it."

"Remind me to look you up, when we get back to Hogwarts," murmured Rianne. "I may want to get in on this 'Tournament' thing myself." She could hardly tear her eyes away from the hefty bag full of Galleons, and the other girls were not much better. 

Nick gave her a long, considering look. "If you think you can hack the competition, you'd be welcome. We've got players from all the houses---one of our better players is a Hufflepuff, and we've got some Gryffindors as well." He gave them all a slightly malicious smile. "Of course, we Ravenclaws do dominate play, but that's hardly a surprise, now is it?" He sat back and basked in the five stony stares he got, looking rather amused.

************

When they got to London, and Nick had disappeared into "the little wizards' room" on Platform 9 ¾ to get his robe off and safely stowed, Rianne turned to Luella. Her expression was stormy. "Did you _hear_ that arrogant sod? 'Ravenclaws do dominate play, but that's hardly a surprise, now is it?' _Oooh_!" She stamped her foot. "When we get back to Hogwarts, I am going to get in on that tournament, and I'm going to show him! I'll show them all!"

"Go for it---I'll cheer you on," muttered Luella. "I may also know some other chess players who might fancy a go. I know Deanna plays, and she's anything but averse to making money. I think our friends in Ravenclaw House might just be in for a nasty surprise."

"I'd admire to see that---and to get my hands on some of those lovely, lovely golden Galleons!" Rianne turned to Marlie. "You in on this?"

"I'm no chess expert. I'd just lose my money, I think." said Marlie. "Now, if the assignment was distracting Nick so that he lost his game, I _might _just be up for the job…" she purred, preening slightly. 

"If you try that on, let me know, so I can be sure to visit you in the hospital wing. Or the morgue." drawled Deanna. "Or have you forgotten that Melinda Yang's got her claws in him good and deep, and doesn't fancy competition at all?"

"That just makes it a challenge---and what do we Slytherins do when there's a challenge?" Marlie smiled. "We win!" 

***********

__

Hogwarts Castle

The big storeroom that the Ravenclaws had appropriated as their venue for the Chess Tournament was crowded. Butterbeer and pumpkin juice were flowing like water, and some of the Ravenclaws had taken over one end of the hall and were setting up to play music. 

Deanna, Rianne, Marlie and Luella entered, looking around with wide eyes. Each of them had paid a Galleon to get in; the Quill Syndicate had been doing remarkably well, with students lining up for the chance to use the Quick-Quotes Quills to escape writing Professor Binns' boring essays. All the shareholders were now getting regular dividends, and they had begun discussing whether it would make sense to get a third Quill. And, speaking of Syndicate shareholders….

"Is that Ron Weasley?" asked Marlie, pointing off through the crowd. Luella looked. That shock of red hair had to belong to a Weasley, and she only knew of one of them with any sort of chess skills. While there were people there just to watch, most people were there to play. 

"Sure is!" said Deanna. "Want to give him a scare, girls?" A sneaky smile on her face, she began to creep up behind him. Even though relations between them were on a better footing this year than ever before, after the affair of the Chamber of Secrets, she knew that Ron had not forgotten what had passed between them.

Rianne looked slightly ill. "Uh, Deanna, I don't think that's a good idea." Deanna paused and looked at her friend. She had heard about the incident on the railway platform, as had the other two. They also remembered the Chocolate Incident, which had ended a few weeks before. "Nick and I talked about that when we got back to school. He apologised---but he also pointed out that when somebody sneaks up from behind you, you don't know _who_ it is."

"Right. Not a bad point, that." With that, Deanna wandered over to greet Ron, but she found that she wasn't the first Slytherin to spot him. Millicent Bulstrode had planted herself in front of him and was sneering down at him.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Alfred E. Weasley, the Gryffindor answer to the _Mad Magazine_ mascot. Social ostracism and academic failure not enough for you, Weasel? Decided to go for the hat-trick by being humiliated at chess, too?" Ron obviously didn't understand all the references, but he got enough of it that he went pale with rage.   


Deanna gasped at Millicent's rudeness, and poised herself to light into the younger girl. Before she could, Nick Cleveland was there, jerking Millicent around by the arm and staring into her face from an inch or so away. 

"_That_ was uncalled for, Millicent," intoned Nick, his voice as cold as an Arctic blizzard. "This is a chess tournament,_ not _a chance to show off how rude and ill-bred you are---for that, you need to go to a Muggle football game, I'm told. You will _apologise_ to Ron, very nicely, or you'll get kicked out of here…and I _may_ decide to make making you miserable an ongoing project." He stared into her eyes, as his mouth twisted into a mirthless grin of rage. "Do we _understand _each other, Millicent?"

Deanna nodded approvingly as Millicent gasped out a humble apology to Ron and vanished into the crowd, getting as far away from Nick Cleveland as she could. Deanna applauded Nick as he turned and saw her for the first time. "Well done, Nick! I don't think my mum could have done better!" She shook her head. "For a few seconds, I thought you'd been taking lessons from her! You get angry the way a Slytherin does!"

"How so? Oh, going all quiet and menacing under a façade of calm?" Nick shrugged his shoulders. "Got that from dear old Mum. As long as she's shouting and ranting, things are still pretty much okay. When she goes all quiet and calm but you know she's still angry…then's the time to take action. Either light out for the hills, or fall on your face and plead for mercy!" 

"So, Ron," Deanna turned to Ron. "Hadn't expected to see you here. Didn't know you gambled." Ron regarded her narrowly. 

"Chess, Deanna, is not a game of chance. It's a game of skill. I've played a lot of people here, up in the Great Hall…"

"When you probably _should_ have been studying, or have you forgotten that little Potions tutoring session we have on for later this week?" put in Nick. Ron blushed slightly, but pressed on.

"And I know that I have a decentish chance to beat at least some of them. I've got some money---thanks to the Syndicate---and I want to make it grow." Deanna applauded this little speech.

_"Another_ Weasley who's not content to be poor! Great! Now that we're allies---it's a long story," she put in, at Nick's questioning look---"we need to increase our wealth."

"Precisely. Of course, getting some robes that haven't been worn by anybody else, or being able to afford a new wand when you need one, is also very nice." With that, Ron and Deanna parted, since the tournament was about to begin.

Luella watched, fascinated. One part of her longed to pony up the fee for playing---it seemed to be run by a complicated system of ranks, with the higher-ranking players paying more, and all newcomers starting at the bottom rank, to move up if they won enough games---but the rest of her knew that most of the people playing could eat her for breakfast at chess, not to mention some of the other games she saw being set up. She couldn't quite believe how many variants of the game there were.

"Uh---excuse me, but what are those?" she asked a passing Ravenclaw. He paused from his task of setting up more tables, smiling down at her in a way that made her aware that she could have looked better. _Why_, she asked herself_, hadn't she put on her better robes, and done something with her hair?_

"Those are boards for _go_ and _shogi_---Japanese board-games in the same general family as chess. This," holding up a round board, "is used to play Byzantine chess. We've also got people here who play three-dimensional chess, Cheops, _shatranj_ and _chauturanga---_the Patil twins are real up-and-comers on those last two, which is only appropriate. Fancy a go?"

"No thanks. I came here to see my friends play. Rianne Stormosi and Deanna Tyler." The Ravenclaw went back to his work, and Luella went and rejoined her friends. They were sitting at tables across from their assigned opponents---a first-year Ravenclaw was facing Rianne, and Deanna was up against Susan Bones. All of them were in the Novices' Division, since they hadn't ever competed before.

"Welcome to the monthly Hogwarts Chess Tournament, sponsored by Ravenclaw House," came a magically amplified voice. "Players, you have your assignments. At the sound of the chime, you may commence play." A silvery chime echoed through the storeroom, and Luella suddenly noticed that above each pair of players was a magical display, showing their pieces' position. Each time a player moved a piece, it was reflected in the displays. Although Luella wasn't much of a chess player, she could tell that the people in the advanced divisions were really skilled players. Watching the projections of the games was like sitting in the Colosseum watching the gladiators; pieces were taking each other out with ruthless abandon.

When the games were over, Deanna had managed to beat Susan Bones, albeit by a more slender margin than Luella would have expected. Rianne had slaughtered her opponent, and Ron had polished off his opponent with a clever pincer gambit. There was polite applause as the winners received their prize money. 

By the end of the tournament, Rianne and Ron were both doing well enough, and had enough prize money for the fees, to elevate themselves out of the Novices' Division into the Lower Intermediate. Even with the fees, both of them had won enough that the weekend had been far from wasted. 

"Twenty-five galleons!" gloated Ron; his face wreathed with a jack-o-lantern smile. "Man alive, it'll feel good to have some money of my own---money I can spend without feeling guilty!"

Rianne was nearly as happy with her winnings. "I wish I had learned about this years ago!" Deanna was rather less happy; she had let her winnings ride instead of sequestering them and just paying the fee for each game, and she had gotten creamed in her last game, losing a lot of her important pieces early on. Even managing to queen a pawn in the last few moves of the game hadn't been enough to save her; her opponent, a petite fourth-year Gryffindor girl with a manic smile and mop of blonde hair, had cornered her king before she could get her new queen into play. 

"Ah, well, at least I made some money off side bets," she muttered, following her friends. Marlie suddenly took Deanna aside, a speculative look in her eye. "What do you want, Marls?"

Marlie had a look in her eyes that Deanna recognised all too clearly; a speculative, predatory gleam. "Did you notice that Melinda Yang was nowhere to be seen all weekend?" she whispered. "Usually, she and Nick are all but inseparable---but there was no sign of her! I wonder…"

"I wonder how you'll look, lying there with your hands crossed over your broken wand as we tell each other how young you were to have to go," replied Deanna. "If you _must_ go after Nick, go ahead, but make sure that Melinda's well and truly out of the picture first!"

"Oh, I will," murmured Marlie conspiratorially. "I haven't forgotten the Chocolate Incident. This isn't a retaliation against him or his House. This is a way to get him working on our side! And, if I happen to collect an interesting male admirer…well, a girl can't have too many of those, can she?"

**********

The next day, Ron was still gloating over his money, and reminiscing about the tournament with Rianne. As it happened, they hadn't faced each other, so there was no possibility of bad feelings, and Rianne was just as happy as he was. "Just wait till next tournament, Rianne!" crowed Ron, at dinner. "I didn't think most of the novices were much competition, did you?" Rianne shook her head, turning and heading up to the Slytherin girls' dorms with her friends.

Once they were in the privacy of their rooms, Marlie gathered her friends around close, her eyes dancing with acquisitive glee. "Did you hear what I found out?" she demanded.

"That there's something to the idea that brains count in this life?" drawled Rianne. Marlie shook her head, grinning rather evilly.

"No! I found out that Melinda Yang's _gone_! She had to go back to Singapore!" At this, all three of her friends sat up and took notice. "And that, my friends, gives me that free run at Nick I was wanting earlier!"

"Who'd you hear this from?" asked Deanna suspiciously. "And why, if she's really gone, did she have to leave? They'd have announced it if she was expelled," with an apologetic glance at Luella for bringing up memories of that painful episode. Luella nodded, not wanting to even think of how she had felt on that awful day.

"I overheard two of the Ravenclaws talking, and they mentioned that they'd be missing her around Ravenclaw House. I---sort of joined the conversation---" with a conspiratorial smile, "and asked them where she'd gone. They said that the word was that her grandmother had summoned her back to Singapore." 

"Really? Why?" asked Luella. She felt a moment's stab of envy of the Ravenclaw girl, who got to travel---but then, getting pulled out of Hogwarts for any reason before she was done was not how she wanted to travel, even if it had included a trip to Singapore. 

"The way they were talking, it seems that Grand-mama Yang doesn't approve of Melinda going to Hogwarts in the first place, instead of one of the Chinese schools---Tao Fung Shan in Hong Kong, Huanglung Academy in Taiwan, or even one of the ones in the mainland, although education there's gone to hell since 1949." 

"Makes sense," murmured Rianne, as the others nodded. "I never did figure out why she was at Hogwarts in the first place. Or Nick, for that matter---isn't he Canadian?"

"Mum says that Nick and Melinda were both born in the UK, and went on the Hogwarts roll as a result, even though Nick's mum was living in North America. Melinda's dad was a liaison between the UK and Singaporean Ministries of Magic, based out of the Singapore Embassy in London." put in Deanna. She grinned reminiscently, thinking about a conversation she had had with her mother. "According to Mum, Nick's mum was the terror of Slytherin in her day! She ran the place like a Japanese cram school!"

"Good job she's not still here, isn't it, Marlie?" asked Luella innocently. "If she were here, you'd have your shoulder to the wheel, your nose to the grindstone---and your grades might actually improve." 

Marlie swatted playfully at Luella. "Gods, how do you think I could study in that sort of insane position?"

**********

Over the next few days, Deanna, Rianne and Luella noticed that Marlie's behavior had been altered slightly. "Is it my imagination, or are you actually taking an interest in something besides Transfiguration?" asked Rianne one evening. "I can't remember the last time I saw you with an open Potions text, Marlie."

Marlie looked up. "Oh---I'm getting some tutoring. OWLs are coming up soon now, and I do want to do well." With that, she went back to her books. Luella looked up, and saw Rianne motioning her and Deanna outside. They quietly left the newly-studious Marlie to her work, and went out into the corridor.

"I think our friend Marlie's up to something---and I don't think it has much to do with the OWLs," said Deanna, once they were safely down the corridor and she could be sure that Marlie couldn't hear them. "Did she go to Cleveland for some tutoring?" 

"Yeah, she did." Rianne shrugged. "Apparently he's helping her with Charms, mainly, but she's also getting help with Potions. She's got Transfiguration down well enough that she doesn't need help with it, and doesn't much care about the other subjects."  


"Yes---but I think our friend has more than one goal in mind." Deanna looked very sly. "I think she's planning to trap Nick in her coils. Whether she actually wants to keep him, or get him panting after her and then, so-to-speak, shoot him down in flames, is an open question. She hasn't forgotten the Chocolate Incident, and I would bet she's after a bit of revenge."

"But we swore on the Great Serpent---" objected Rianne. 

"This doesn't derive from the Water-Balloon Incident, Rianne. He admitted that he deliberately set things up so that we'd get to fighting over the bribe, didn't he? I would say that this qualifies the Chocolate Incident as a separate matter entirely." 

Luella looked doubtful. "Look---the last time we crossed swords with him, he made us all look like a right bunch of prats, didn't he? Ravenclaw or no Ravenclaw, he's as good at intrigue as any Slytherin I've ever met. I'd rather just treat him with caution."

Deanna grinned. "So would I, our kid. Matter of fact, I did ask him if he wasn't afraid of us coming after him personally for that stunt. He said that he did it partly to get us back---and, let's face it, some of the Ravenclaws that got targeted had had nothing to do with the Water-Balloon Incident---and partly to teach us caution. He thinks that we're overconfident, coasting on Slytherin's reputation---and I'm not a hundred percent sure he was wrong." Deanna suddenly looked pensive. "The gods know, after _that_ mess, we're likelier to look gift horses in the mouth, aren't we?"

"We did think that just because he's a Ravenclaw, he couldn't be devious," Rianne admitted. "When I was on detention for that big fight we got into, I told Professor Snape the whole story." She smiled ruefully. "I've never seen him laugh so hard! He said it served us right for underestimating Cleveland---that Cleveland's easily one of the better intriguers he's ever seen. For Professor Snape to say that about a Ravenclaw means a lot."

"In any case, if Marlie's out for revenge, I wish her luck---and I'm staying out of the way!" said Deanna. "I'll be watching to see what happens, though."

***********

Over the next few days, Marlie was with Nick Cleveland as much as they could be, considering that they were in different houses and Nick was a year ahead of Marlie. They often ate together, usually at the Ravenclaws' table, while Nick patiently went over the finer points of Charms, or drilled Marlie on potion ingredients. 

People noticed, of course. "Mr. Cleveland, why are you spending so much time with Miss Lovegood?" asked Professor Snape one day in a corridor. Marlie had just disappeared down the corridor, and Deanna, Luella and Rianne were just coming around the corner. Luella saw Nick turn to answer Professor Snape, and hurriedly motioned her friends into cover---she didn't want to miss this.

"Well, Professor Snape," said Nick politely, "Marlie's apparently just now realised that OWLs are just around the corner. She came to me for some tutoring, and I'm helping her out with Charms and Potions. She's got Transfiguration well down, as far as I can tell---I don't think she needs any help there."

"How---altruistic," murmured Professor Snape, stroking his chin. "I thought you disliked Miss Lovegood. Why would you be giving her aid?" 

"Altruistic? Me?" Nick snorted rather ostentatiously. "She's promised me a Walkmage if I can get her through her OWLs, sir. I could buy one, but---"

"Yes, you could buy one," rejoined Professor Snape. "I've heard about those chess competitions your House runs. I'm told that you do quite well. A Walkmage would be a trivial purchase for you, Mr. Cleveland."

"True enough. However," Nick raised a finger, "every Galleon I spend on a Walkmage is a Galleon I'll never get to spend in a _bookstore_. Without me, I fancy Flourish and Botts would not be flourishing. I don't know if it's just my overactive imagination, but I would swear that they lick their chops in there, every time they see my smiling face." He paused for a second. "And I don't dislike her. She's pleasant company, and these days, I do get lonely."

Professor Snape covered his mouth, and the watching girls thought that he was hiding a smile. "You may have been suited to my house, but you're Ravenclaw through and through, Mr. Cleveland. In any case, I'm glad to see Miss Lovegood taking more of an interest in her studies--whatever her motivations. Five points to Ravenclaw." With that, he swept down the corridor, and Nick went on his way. 

***********

Marlie admitted freely, when questioned by her chums, that she had promised Nick a Walkmage. "By the time I get through with him, he'll be wrapped around my little finger. He may even forget the Walkmage. And then---" she grinned evilly---"then I'll have him just where I want him! Revenge will be sweet!"

"Going to dump him in public?" asked Rianne. Marlie shrugged.

"Don't know yet. Maybe I will. Or maybe---maybe I'll just keep him for my own." Marlie looked very pleased. "He's really patient with me, and I've got to admit, my OWL prospects have never looked brighter!" She suddenly chuckled. "Won't my Mum be amazed?" 

At that moment, a loud rude noise startled all four Slytherin girls. Jumping apart, they looked around, wands at the ready. "Somebody was spying on us!" gasped Luella, her eyes flickering around for their unseen auditor. 

Peeves, the Hogwarts poltergeist, appeared, cackling insanely at the girls. "Sneaky, sneaky little girls! Mustn't be so sneaky!" With that, he began singing a very rude song about Slytherin House, one that nobody who wanted all his or her teeth in place would dare sing in a Slytherin's hearing. 

Deanna gasped with rage, pointed her wand, and cast a hex. It passed harmlessly through Peeves, and bounced off the far wall. At that, Peeves did a loop-the-loop in mid-air, and sped off, laughing a mad laugh. 

Rianne lowered her wand, her hand shaking. "Peeves! Gods, but I wish Professor Dumbledore would find a way to get rid of that pest!" 

"From your mouth to the gods' ears, Rianne," muttered Luella, shaking her head in disgust. "Let's hope he doesn't spread this around."

************

For the next week, though, they didn't hear a thing, and they began to hope that Peeves had found other mischief to keep himself occupied. Marlie continued to spend a great deal of time with Nick Cleveland, but she reported little success in gaining his affection. "What is _with_ that man, anyway? He spends all the time with me I could want, but I've not been able to get him to so much as admit that I'm attractive!" She was combing her hair as she talked with her friends, and she yanked the comb through her blond hair with what seemed like unnecessary vehemence. "Is he made of stone? I _know_ he's not gay!"

"Maybe you're losing your touch," teased Rianne. She was flopped out on her belly on her bed, going through a Charms textbook for an essay she had to write. Marlie gave her a glare.

"Maybe. Or maybe he's wary of me. He remembers the Chocolate Incident, although we never talk about it." 

"That could be it," put in Deanna, who was putting the final touches on an essay for History of Magic, using one of the Syndicate's Quick-Quotes Quills. "Maybe you need to convince him you've forgiven and forgotten."

"I'll keep trying," muttered Marlie, putting down her comb and picking up a textbook. "I'm not going to let some swotty Ravenclaw get away. Nobody gets away when I've got them in my sights."

***********

A few days later, it all hit the fan. Luella, Deanna and Rianne were walking up one of the staircases, with Marlie ahead of them, when they heard a loud shriek of hatred. The pure venom in it would have chilled Lord Voldemort. 

_"There _you are, you---you---" It went on, but none of the girls could understand it; it was in a foreign language. Looking up, they were horrified to see Marlie grappling for dear life with Melinda Yang, struggling to keep the older girl's fingers from her throat with one hand while trying to fend off a hurricane of blows with the other. 

"You thieving little whore! You spotty-faced little cow! I'll tear your heart out and roast it!" screamed Melinda, her face a mask of insane hatred. She got in a good one to Marlie's stomach, and as the Slytherin bent over, grunting with pain, Melinda landed another one on her face. Blood spurted from her nose.

"Oh, gods, she's back, and she's gone mad!" gasped Deanna. "I've never seen her like this before!" She had seen Melinda Yang angry before---unlike the relatively easy-going Nick, her temper was legendary---but never in a pure killing rage. Deanna could see that Melinda had had extensive martial-arts training, and was out not just for a quick win, but to inflict maximum suffering on Marlie. "Come on," she yelled to her friends, drawing her wand. "We've got to help Marlie!"

The girls charged up the stairs, but Melinda heard them in time. Gripping Marlie by the throat, Melinda whipped out her wand. Gasping and dazed, Marlie went to her knees, clawing at Melinda's hand. Melinda pointed her wand, snarling "Keep out of this, you, or you're next! _Tarentallegra!"_ Caught off-guard, Deanna, Luella and Rianne danced in place, trying not to fall down the stairs. With them helpless to interfere, Melinda turned back to Marlie, her black eyes glowing with fury. "Prepare to perish, you rotten little tart! This is your last minute alive!" Grabbing Marlie from behind, she began to apply a chokehold. Her face was wreathed in an insane smile.

As Melinda's arm went around her windpipe, Marlie suddenly went forward and into a somersault, trying to throw Melinda off. Melinda hadn't expected that move, and was thrown forward, landing against the railing. To the onlookers' horror, it broke off cleanly, and both girls were falling, to land on the floor below with a sickening thud. At that moment, the _Tarentallegra _curse wore off, and the Slytherins were free to act. At once, they ran to the railing and looked down.

Marlie was curled up, choking and coughing, but conscious. Beside her, Melinda was lying very still. In a small voice, Rianne said: "We'd better get Madam Pomfrey here, right now!"

************

Luella had never been in Professor Flitwick's doghouse before, and she didn't like it. The tiny Charms professor was pacing back and forth in front of the three Slytherins, his voice cracking with rage.

"Do you realise how lucky you are---you and your friend?" snapped Professor Flitwick. "If Miss Yang had died, Miss Lovegood would probably be wishing she was in Azkaban before it was all over! Miss Yang's family is incredibly powerful and ancient, and not inclined to accept stories about 'accidents' taking one of their own!"

Marlie, who had suffered nothing more than a few bad bruises and scrapes, was sobbing loudly into her brother's shoulder as he held her protectively. Behind Mike stood Melissa Lovegood, who had come up by Floo with Caitlin Tyler when she had been notified. She was watching Professor Flitwick like a hawk, poised to interfere if necessary to protect her baby. 

"I didn't mean it! I didn't mean to really hurt her!" blubbered Marlie. "Oh, please let her be all right! I didn't mean for things to go this far!" 

"Perhaps you now know why feuds and practical jokes aren't always a good idea, Miss Lovegood," snarled Professor Flitwick. He had been tearing strips off Marlie ever since the story had come out; Professor Snape, in the corner of the room, started forward, only to stop at an icy glance from Professor Flitwick. "As it happens, you were extremely lucky. Miss Yang's concussed and has some broken bones, but she should be back on her feet later this week. Right now, she's out cold, down in the infirmary." 

At this, Marlie stopped crying. She looked Professor Flitwick in the eye, her expression haunted. "Oh, gods, I can so identify with her now!" She straightened, as dignified suddenly as though she were about to be unjustly condemned. "I want to see her. To apologise." 

"But, Marlie, dear, she's unconscious…" Melissa Lovegood began, before remembering just why Marlie suddenly felt a kinship with the Ravenclaw girl. "Oh, gods, I know just what you mean! Her poor parents! They'll be having kittens about this!"

"They will, Mrs. Lovegood," said Professor Flitwick. "I don't think you know why Miss Yang was summoned home to Singapore." At her headshake, he went on: "Her whole family was fighting a very powerful Dark Wizard and they literally needed all hands on deck. Even a not-quite-trained Hogwarts witch was needed." Professor Flitwick looked sorrowful. "Quite a few of them didn't survive, and the rest are very, very busy right now. Melinda only came back to Hogwarts because she needed to recuperate. She was captured…" 

Caitlin Tyler gasped. "My gods! You mean San-ko-lin-sen's back? I thought he'd been defeated when the 'Gang of Four' fell in China, back in the Seventies!" She looked slightly sick. "Gods, when I think of the things he did when he all but ran China, during the Cultural Revolution---he made Lord Voldemort look like a house-elf!" Suddenly, what Professor Flitwick had said got through to her. "Artemis! You mean to say…Melinda Yang was captured by San-ko-lin-sen?" 

"Yes," said Professor Flitwick. "She volunteered. It was part of a complicated double-bluff, which worked perfectly. Unfortunately, it took longer to work than anticipated, and his followers did…things…to her. Terrible things. She's always been a bit emotionally fragile. She nearly had a breakdown her first year here, never having been so far from home and family before."

"That would be the year before you came here," put in Professor Snape. "It wasn't widely-known at the time, and it's been kept pretty quiet since then."

"Nick Cleveland stopped her from a suicide attempt, and that's why she's so devoted to him. She was half-mad with homesickness, and the food didn't agree with her at all, and he came across her when she was just about to end it." Professor Flitwick shook his head. "If she had only come to me, or to Madam Pomfrey--- but she thought that would mean she'd 'lose face.' She was up on the battlements of the Astronomy Tower, and he talked her down and out of it."

"By Chinese custom, he who saves a person's life has a claim on that person for the rest of his or her life." explained Professor Snape. "She felt that she had such an obligation toward Nick. He's apparently a major element in her mental stability."

"So, she owes Mr. Cleveland a life-debt, and fancies him as well," summed up Professor Flitwick. "Miss Lovegood, your efforts to lure Mr. Cleveland away from her sent her into an emotional tailspin such as I've seldom seen. Miss Bulstrode had run into her first, and filled her ears with stories about how you were all but ready to knock Mr. Cleveland over the head and drag him off---a sort of 'Rape of the Sabine Women' in reverse." He shook his head. "While I can't believe that of a girl your age, Miss Yang apparently did---and went temporarily mad. Due to the stresses she had recently been through, it has been decided that her injuries were punishment enough for her. She will _not_ be expelled." With this, he gave Professor Snape a very dirty look.

_"Millicent Bulstrode_," muttered Rianne. She, Deanna and Luella exchanged significant looks. Each of them was of the same mind---come what may, Millicent Bulstrode was going to be a very unhappy girl before she was much older. Along with Pansy Parkinson, she was much too close to Draco Malfoy and the clique of Death-Eaters-in-waiting in Slytherin House, anyway---giving her a kicking would be a good deed in itself, besides avenging their friend. 

"The injuries weren't Miss Lovegood's fault, or so Mr. Filch informs me," said Professor Snape. He held up the section of railing that had broken away. "Notice how these are sawed nearly all the way through? Someone did that on purpose. There's only one person at this school who would do such a thing."

In chorus, everybody named the name: "Peeves!" Professors Snape and Flitwick both looked triumphant, before they remembered that they were meant to be angry with each other.

"This may be what we've needed for Professor Dumbledore to get rid of that blasted poltergeist!" exulted Professor Flitwick. 

At that, Professor Snape began herding the Slytherin contingent out. "Since Miss Lovegood has expressed a wish to visit Miss Yang in the infirmary, I think that's where we'll be going. Afterwards, you and I can pay a visit to the Headmaster about the Peeves problem, George."

************

The infirmary was quiet. As the girls entered, they were met by a very agitated Madam Pomfrey, who burst out: "I can't believe it of him! He said that he was going to stay until he was good and ready to leave, and if I pestered him any more, he'd tie my windpipe in a monkey knot!" She bustled on past, clucking about impatient patients, importunate visitors, and the young people who run about these days. Behind them, Caitlin shook her head in response to a questioning glance from her daughter. 

As they got farther in, they heard a low voice, intoning: "…as he turned to her and lifted her in his strong arms, crushing her against him with such force that their robes might as well not have been there, the leather-trousers-clad Ambrosius told the swooning Godgifu 'I adore you passionately, _cara amatrix mea_, and can only be myself when we are as one…" 

"That's a passage from _Sweet Savage Sorcerers_! I recognise it!" muttered Marlie. "You know---the sequel to _Passionate Trousers_! But who would be reading it here?" Much puzzled, they went around a corner, and stopped, gobsmacked. Nick Cleveland was sitting beside Melinda Yang's bed, one of her hands in his, his moccasined feet propped up on a handy chair, reading to her in a low voice. When he came to the end of a chapter, he leaned forward and gently sponged Melinda's face with a damp sponge.

As they entered, he turned and blenched. "Come to finish her off, have you?" he snarled, grabbing a wand that was lying on the bedside table. "Well, try finishing this off! _Petrificus Totalus_!" At that, Rianne, Deanna, Marlie and Luella were paralyzed---fully conscious, but unable to move a muscle. Nick nodded to himself with an air of grim satisfaction. "Trying to sneak in, were you? Guess I was a step ahead of you!"

"But not a step ahead of me, Nick," came the voice of Caitlin Tyler. She had been a bit behind the girls, and his spell hadn't hit her. "_Expelliarmus!_" The wand flew out of Nick's hand and landed near Caitlin. "You do that spell well, but you weren't really prepared for an Auror, now were you?"

"Oh?" With a twisted grin, Nick shook his left arm---he had been holding the wand in his right---and another wand came out, falling into his hand. "That's _Melinda's_ wand you've got there. I had it here in case she wanted it. We've practised using each other's wands, just in case we need to sometime." His grin turned into a broad smile. "We also make a point of both of us practising wand-work with the hand we don't normally use, in case that ever comes in handy."

Unwillingly impressed, Caitlin advanced, using Glamoury to fix him in place, finally standing close enough that she could reach out and grab him by the front of his robe. "_You _need to calm down, Nick Cleveland. Threatening to bespell an Auror's a _very_ bad idea." To her surprise, Nick didn't show even a trace of fear. He didn't even seem to be highly impressed by her.

"You know, I've been of the opinion that Slytherin House has been running on hot air and bluff for a long time," observed Nick, his face solemn. "Just for starters, even _without_ the wand---" he dropped his wand onto the floor---" I know about seven counter-moves from this position. All of them are highly effective---can you say 'Istanbul Twist?' I knew you could!---and all of them _hurt_." As Caitlin recoiled, Nick went on: "But _I'd _never touchyou. _That_ would be unnecessary." He shook his head. "You should 'check your six,' Mrs. Tyler." 

Caitlin froze, as a well-remembered alto voice snarled in her ear, throbbing with rage, the Cockney accent just as thick as she remembered it: "Touch one hair on the head of my eldest, Ickle Caitlin, and I'll have your guts for garters!" Turning slowly, releasing Nick, she found herself staring into a terribly familiar pair of ice-grey eyes. "Yes, it's me. Grace Cleveland, Grace Forrest as-was. I was back in dear old Blighty, and of course, I had to see my boy." Caitlin felt the old, familiar sensations of a gallon of ice water down her back and the bottom of her stomach falling out. Grace Cleveland hadn't changed much from her Head Girl days, and Caitlin felt as though she were back in her first year of school. She had the same thick mop of dark curls, framing the same deceptively-delicate face, and the same ominous smile.

Nick's voice was quiet, but full of triumph. "I think the phrase here, Mrs. Tyler, is 'check and mate.' You forgot I'm a _chess_ player." 

Caitlin shook her head ruefully. "Seldom, in all my life, have I ever run into _anybody_ your age---particularly a non-Slytherin---with your level of tricky, cunning underhandedness." A thought struck her. "Tell me---have you ever considered a career with the Aurors?"

Nick shook his head. "Never. Insofar as I've thought about it, I figured on doing research---and not on Dark Creatures! I like all my limbs where the gods first put them!" He bent and retrieved his wand. "That said, and given that my citizenship is---complex, the Department of Mysteries does sound like a good idea." 

************

A few minutes later, it was Old Girls' Reunion down in the Hogwarts infirmary. With the Petrification Curse raised, Marlie and Deanna crowded around with the other girls to listen to their mothers and Mrs. Cleveland reminiscing about the times they'd shared at Hogwarts. 

"No!" gasped Mrs. Cleveland. "You mean to tell me that Narcissa married that---that _Malfoy_ creature?" At Caitlin's nod, Mrs. Cleveland shook her head sadly. "That's a marriage made in hell if ever I heard of one. I can just imagine _that_ marriage bed---a bed built for four: Narcissa, Lucius and their big, bloated egos." The women laughed and laughed. 

Mrs. Cleveland looked curiously at Deanna. "So this is your little girl? It's a little difficult for me to wrap my mind around the idea of Ickle Caitlin as a mum herself---I still think of you as the firstie with the, shall we say, _original_ ideas about spelling and grammar."

Embarassed, Caitlin chuckled. "Well, you cured me of that! After two years of you, my English was perfect!" She leaned closer to the other woman. "You know---at the time, I hated you. You were a total perfectionist, and you wouldn't accept any excuses. Since that time, though, I've learned a lot, and a lot of what I've accomplished, I owe to you."

Grace looked very pleased. "Thank you, Caitlin. At the time, I couldn't afford to be popular. Slytherin House was drifting, and the Dark Lord was gathering strength. I decided that if the Head of House, or our teachers, couldn't make us strong, it was up to me as prefect." She chuckled reminiscently. "I rather expect I overdid it a little, but hey, I was young and inexperienced!"

Meanwhile, a house-elf had entered the infirmary, heading toward Melinda's bed, where Nick had resumed reading aloud to her in a low voice. "Mister Nicholas Cleveland, here is the soup you wanted!" it squeaked. Nick put down his book.

"Oh. Thank you." Nick reached into his pocket. "Would you like a silver Sickle for a tip?" The elf shook his head. 

"House-elves does not take tips for doing our work, sir! We does it because we loves Professor Dumbledore, and the boys and girls who studies here!" Nick shrugged, pocketing his coin, and the elf disappeared. This had drawn the attention of the women back to Nick, whom they had almost forgotten in their interest in a good old gossip.

Nick paid them no mind, sitting close to Melinda and dipping his spoon into the tureen. "Ah, hot-and-sour, just the way you like it!" He put the spoon to her lips, and gently inserted it. "Here. Maybe you'll be able to taste this. I hope you do."

Madam Pomfrey was watching; she had come in while Caitlin and Grace were catching up on old times. "He'd make a wonderful mediwizard, I think---he hasn't left her side since she was brought here." Nick was slowly feeding Melinda the hot-and-sour soup, a spoonful at a time, taking great care not to spill a drop.

Marlie smiled ruefully. "He does understand about long bouts of unconscious-ness---both times, for me, I came out of it with my mouth dry as dust, and with a taste in it like the bottom of Satan's birdcage!" 

The adults went back to their confab---Grace was showing Caitlin pictures of her siblings' babies, detailing their achievements with proper auntly pride---and Marlie went over to where Nick was finishing feeding Melinda. At her voice, he looked up, his expression wary. "Nick? Nick, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for things to get this out of hand."

"If you wanted revenge on me for the Chocolate Incident, Marlie, you've had it, in spades," muttered Nick, carefully wiping Melinda's mouth. "I haven't been able to sleep or eat. I can't even concentrate on my homework or a book!" At this, the girls' eyes widened. That was a very serious sign in a Ravenclaw. "I rather expected you to try something, but I didn't think you'd target Melinda."

"That wasn't my plan, Nick," admitted Marlie. "I had heard that she had had to leave Hogwarts, and I thought---"

"That you could get me wrapped around your little finger?" Nick grinned for a second. "Not a bad idea, Marlie, but you should have asked me where Melinda was; I'd have told you." 

"We didn't know, though. I heard a rumour that her Grandmama had summoned her back to Singapore because she didn't approve of family members learning in foreign schools." 

Nick quirked an eyebrow up as he returned to his seat, taking Melinda's hand in his own. "And you took that sort of third-hand information seriously? Instead of checking with people who knew the whole story?" Marlie blushed. "Gods, gods, what is Slytherin House coming to? In my mum's day, doing something like that would get you named a member of the 'Honourary Hufflepuff Club' until someone else did something just as clueless." Marlie and her friends giggled; apparently the Slytherin consensus that Hufflepuffs were about the most clueless people in Hogwarts wasn't a new thing. 

As Marlie went back to re-join the all-girl confab, Mrs. Cleveland looked up and noticed her. Before she could react, she was being swept across the room by Nick's mother, who was smiling in a way Marlie didn't really care for. Her smile was bright, and brittle---and as sharp as broken glass. 

"A word in your ear, Marlene," purred Mrs. Cleveland. "_One_ more attempt to manipulate my eldest boy, _or_ my daughter-in-law-to-be, and I will, personally, have your giblets out and serve them up to the family owl! Do I make myself _sparklingly_ clear?" 

"Yes, ma'am," choked Marlie; Mrs. Cleveland's motherly arm around her neck had the oddest way of making her want to turn blue and gurgle. For someone as feminine and fragile-looking as Mrs. Cleveland was, she was incredibly strong. Then something hit her. "Uh---'daughter-in-law-to-be?' Does that mean what I think it does?" 

Mrs. Cleveland grinned, a smug, conspiratorial grin. "Right you are! When Melinda---or Mei-lin, to give her her right Chinese name---first took up with my boy, I had a quick natter with some of her cousins from Vancouver, Seattle and San Francisco. They contacted the clan patriarch back in Singapore, and he was quite pleased to negotiate an alliance between our families." She chuckled. "Nick doesn't know it yet, but Melinda does. Melinda's keeping him in the dark for now. She thinks he'll go along with it more easily if he thinks it's all his own idea, rather than something that his mum-the-Slytherin manipulated him into." 

Marlie's eyes opened wide. "You really _are_ a Slytherin! For that matter, Melinda wouldn't have made a bad one!" She shook her head in reluctant respect. "I never thought that arranged marriages still happened, in this day and age!"

"Oh, Melinda's quite eager," shrugged Mrs. Cleveland. "She's been owling me, off and on---and I think Nick would die of mortification if he knew just how much I know about how his courtship's going!" She spread her hands. "Can _I_ help it if some men need to get hit with a brick to understand what they want?"

Madam Pomfrey came in, shooing everybody but Nick and Melinda out, and they went back up to the main part of the school, Marlie's mind awhirl with what she wanted to tell her friends.

************

Some time afterward, after apologies on both parts had been extended, Deanna and Luella ran into Marlie. Their friend was looking awfully haggard.

"Can't talk now---I've a tutoring session to go to!" This puzzled the other girls, since they knew Nick Cleveland was nowhere around. His mum had dragged him out of school to accompany her on visits to her relatives, much to his displeasure. "But---but my books will get lonely without me!" he had protested, to no avail.

At their befuddled looks, Marlie explained. "Melinda's taken over my tutoring---Nick's mum bought him a Walkmage, and Professor Flitwick 'suggested' that an appropriate penance for her would be to see to it that I got through my OWLs."

Her friends nodded; Luella remembered the formal apologies that had officially buried the hatchet. She and her friends had all sworn on the Great Serpent not to continue feuding with Ravenclaw House or any of its members, and Melinda and Nick had, in their turn, sworn on the Raven's Wing, the most solemn oath any Ravenclaw could offer, to not seek vengeance on Marlie or any Slytherin for what had happened. Professors Flitwick and Snape had overseen the oath-taking, since both of them wanted the feuding between Slytherin and Ravenclaw to end. 

Marlie looked slightly haggard. "I'll probably pass all my OWLs---but dear gods, what a price! That woman's harder to deal with than Nick was, and whenever I'm not in class, eating, or asleep, she expects me to be drilling for those tests! When I complain, she says something about making silk purses from unlikely materials, and tells me to get my lazy, semi-literate arse back to work!"

"Marlie? Marlie!" came Melinda's voice from down the corridor. "Get your arse in here, now, woman! NOW!"

Marlie flinched. "My mistress calls, and I must obey!" She scuttled off to where Melinda was waiting, a stack of books under her arm and an impatient look on her face. 


End file.
